As I Wait Beyond the Traverse
by Aulist
Summary: Garrus never realized that he had feelings for Shepard until after her death. Two years has passed and he is given a second chance. Set from Garrus's time on Omega and onwards another take on the FemShep/Garrus relationship & romance development.
1. Wandering Through the Fog

**As I Wait Beyond the Traverse**

* * *

**Chapter One: Wandering Through the Fog**

Time had no meaning when the bodies of mercenaries fell as quickly as they trickled through a long, metal bridge on Omega. It was filthy. Not only was it smudged from years of accumulated dirt and grease, vibrant red rust was eating away at it. One could only wish that various slabs of metal and wire lying across it were merely left from those who passed and not segments supporting the bridge. At first there were the Blue Suns, Blood Pack, and the Eclipse mercenary groups. Then there was the increasing amount of men and women equipped with questionable firearms and armor. The mercenaries were beginning to become desperate as key members perished in the carnage. They were forced to recruit all the help they could get. Even if it meant inviting untrained, but eager individuals in hopes of someday joining one of the mercenary groups.

_A shot rang out and another body collapsed to the ground._

Hidden from his perch, the faint lights gleamed against the gloss of his angular dark blue and black alloy armor. On Omega, if the number of stars in the sky marked one's prosperity, the future would be bleak. While it was a land of opportunity to some, it was also a world without law. The sniper had already lost count of those he killed when he saw the hopeless mercenaries who took turns removing the piles of bodies on the bridge. If he were an artist the splatters from the red, blue, and green blood from those he killed would have been considered a masterpiece. How much death would it take for them to realize that it was a lost cause? How much longer could he hold out? Dazed, he glanced at the supply crate beside him. There was a sense of unease when he saw the last of his bottles of stims which lay empty beside it. Although there were enough medi-gels to take care of a dozen close calls, the amount of ammunition would likely last him until the end of the day. That is, if his recent dependence on the stims did not claim him first.

Initially, the killing had possessed him. Although his three-fingered gloved hands were numb, he continued to grip his sniper rifle while scoping the bridge for more mercenaries. Every so often, he would give his sniper rifle a strong squeeze because his hands would have been shaking uncontrollably from exhaustion had he not been holding it. Despite the rows of luxurious black couches the room had to offer, he had to resist. Though the mercenaries seemed countless, they were not. Had any managed to get close, they would treat him without mercy. He had to remind himself of his presence because fatigue was not an answer when death was waiting to get across.

_Another shot. Another casualty._

The ring from each trigger became more bearable after each consecutive kill. It happened so frequently that it progressed from a slight headache to a drowned out burst followed by a soft thud of the body against the metal bridge. The chatter across the bridge began to emanate as he noticed the increased movement of the mercenaries across the bridge. He had to shoot at anything that moved because he knew that this perch would not last.

"It won't be long before I can see you again," he muttered while his helmeted head pressed against the wall from where he hid.

Although his place across the bridge was advantageous for him, he knew of its flaws. The mercenaries were only able to move across the bridge towards the room where he stood his ground. Despite the scattered and bloodied bodies from where he stood, he had a clear view of everything that came through. However, beneath him was a spacious room with three entrances. It was only a matter of time before the mercenaries were able to hack through those doors and storm up to slaughter him. Coincidentally, the area from which he sniped was not primarily chosen for its tactical vantage. It was chosen for its sentimental value as it was the last place he had spent time with his squad.

_He readied his sniper rifle and took aim. _

* * *

There was little comfort in the solitude of his small, dark room. Although unable to make use of the faint lights flickering outside, he leaned against the wall beside the window. His grey blue avian eyes danced as his attention was fixated on the orange glow of holovid the omni-tool on his arm emitted.

"Hey Garrus," the dark haired woman in the video smiled. At the sound of the name, his mouth slightly opened as the mandibles at the sides of his mouth flared baring a normally hidden row of sharp teeth. It had been years since anyone had called him that.

"I'd normally type a message to your omni-tool, but right now I'm flooded with reports," she continued, "I wanted to let you know that the Normandy will be docking at the Citadel in a few weeks. We received minor damage during our last encounter with geth resistance and I hope to have Normandy repaired there before we go at it again. While at the Citadel, the crew will be receiving three days of shore leave. If you're not too busy with your work at C-Sec, I think the crew would love to see you again. I thought it'd be nice if we could catch up as well. That is, after I submit my reports to Anderson and another attempt to persuade the council that…"

Upon hearing the soft chirps of his door being opened Garrus quickly turned off the holovid. A flood of light entered the room while a blue skinned woman stepped through the door and approached him. He stared at her as his eyes adjusted to the brightness.

"There you are," the asari sighed with relief, "the guys had a hunch you were alone in here."

From a distance, Garrus noticed several men gathered around a table in the bright room outside. They were playing what he assumed was variation of Skyllian Five poker.

"Hey, Archangel," one of the men shouted, "what will it take for us to drag your ass out here and join us? I'm tired of losing all my credits to this krogan bastard!"

As loud laughter from the group followed, the woman stepped deeper into the darkness of the room. Her black commando suit complimented her slender body while the patterned violet markings which framed her face and finger-like scalp crest made her inherently fierce. As she swaggered towards him, it left nothing to the imagination.

"Ripper, do you need something?" Garrus casually asked while glancing at his omni-tool.

Ripper stopped her advance and crossed her arms. She easily read through his attempt to conceal his annoyance of her intrusion.

"Archangel, I don't know what's going on with you," she frowned, "I know that its none of my business, but it worries me that you've been locking yourself up in this room this past week."

Garrus nodded at her with his eyes focused on a message on his omni-tool.

"I've only been with the squad for a few weeks so I wasn't aware of this, but the guys told me that this isn't the first time you've been this way. Apparently, you were acting the same way at around this time last year," Ripper said while attempting to read the vertical text display on his omni-tool.

Garrus closed the message once he noticed her closing the distance between them. There was a pang of worry as he attempted to narrow down who in his squad may recall such an event. However, the thought was quickly halted by the sound of her voice.

"Archangel," Ripper said with wide eyes filled with worry, "I just wanted you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to or someone to vent to, I'll be all ears."

"Thanks, but we have larger issues to worry about," Garrus reassured her as he reopened the message on his omni-tool.

After giving a slight smile, Ripper slowly began making her way to the door. As she reached the entrance Ripper turned to face him and let out a quiet sigh.

"They tell me that you're worrying about a bond mate. Perhaps a former bond mate? I don't know. It's only because Erash mentioned that he heard a woman's voice coming from your room last night," in attempt to avoid eye contact, Ripper stared at the floor as she continued, "I… I mean, we just want you to know that you don't need to do this alone."

"Just leave me be."

After her exit, Garrus gazed at the door for a moment in worry that another squad member would enter, but was promptly reassured when a muffled roar of laughter came from the door. Turning back to the holovid on his omni tool, Garrus felt hesitant as he held a talon-like finger poised to continue the woman's message. In frustration, Garrus sat on the small unkept bed near the window with his elbows on his knees, he ran his fingers from the ridge of cartilage above his eyes onto his forehead.

"Shepard…" Garrus whispered to himself.

_The voices from across the bridge became louder._

* * *

While peering over his perch, Garrus reloaded his sniper rifle. As he caught a glimpse of a group of men and women frantically shouting at each other while adjusting their firearms he knew that the mercenaries were preparing another round of attack. Garrus could easily take on a small band of mercenaries who attempted to cross the bridge, but he understood that time was running short. Although his mind persisted, his body told him otherwise. Ultimately, it was the thought of Shepard which helped Garrus endure the waves of oncoming mercenaries. Her influence during his stay on the Normandy was what inspired Garrus to lead a squad of his own. Shepard also encouraged him to question his morals on justice, which helped him determine the foundation of guidelines that were enforced at every mission. That is to say, no civilians were to be killed regardless of the situation. However, his position with the mercenaries across the bridge was a constant reminder of his own failure to live up to the one whom he admired and respected.

_He closed his eyes._

* * *

Night was eternal on Omega. As it was formerly an asteroid which was mined for element zero, implementing a day cycle was never a priority to those who visited or inhabited it. Through the years, people had created makeshift dwellings in the hollowed areas of the asteroid. Thereafter, the population on Omega slowly grew as did the crime. Despite being governed by a de-facto ruler, an asari named Aria T'Loak, Omega was a haven for the illicit. It was the perfect location for one to enact justice.

The squad had been waiting for two hours in a large refrigerated cargo hold of the J-65 docking area. Typically the location stored items for the illustrious Aquila nightclub on Omega, but there had been increasing reports about weapon smuggling originating from their storage area. Inside there were large shipping containers filled with various alcoholic beverages ranging from various types of Batarian beers which suited the pallets of most patrons to the Thucydian iced wines which needed an acquired taste. There were also smaller shipping containers which were organized into piles according to their sizes. Inside they were filled with a limited assortment of meat, vegetables, and fruits from nearby planets. Searching for the smuggled weapons, however, had been too easy. There were no attempts to hide them as they were found near the docking hold in metal military grade storage cases.

"Dammit, it's fucking cold," Grundan Krul complained as he retracted his green scaled crested head into the warmth of the hump on his back. "Why are we still here? Archangel, you sure the tip we got was reliable?"

"Scared already? I can see you shaking in your boots from here," quipped Garrus through his transmitter as he watched the angry krogan from the safety of the dock's catwalks. "The tip is reliable. Erash said it was triple encrypted on the Eclipse servers."

"But, it's been two hours since the expected meeting time. Something is obviously wrong," countered the krogran.

"I want us to wait longer. The weapons are still here, so it means that they're late."

"Or, they finished early."

"Eclipse is never early," interrupted Sidonis as he stepped beside Garrus while him a reassuring nod.

The group comprised of twelve members. In the beginning, Garrus worked on his own to eliminate various crime on Omega. Although he never shared his name, the civilians who he had helped in his fight for justice dubbed him the Archangel of Omega. After several missions, Garrus had been approached by various individuals who wanted to join him. Initially Garrus had been wary of having others join his crusade. However, in his years with the military, C-Sec, and the Normandy he was able to quickly decipher between those who were skilled in fighting and those who wanted to join for the sake of being associated with the Archangel of Omega. Garrus also respected his squad's privacy as members were never questioned nor forced to reveal their past. However, they all shared a common element, they were all associated with someone who was killed by a mercenary.

The first to accompany Garrus was the unlikely batarian and salarian duo, Erash and Mierin. Erash was a tech expert who had never failed in his attempts of hacking and decrypting, while Mierin was suspected to be a former salarian Special Tasks Group explosives expert. They were followed by two human men named Butler and Monteague. Through the way the two managed to stay calm throughout a fight, Garrus gathered that they may have previously been Alliance military soldiers. However, Monteague had two talents. He was capable and eager to shoot off the head of a mercenary as he was to prepare a meal for the squad after each mission. Then there was Grundan Krul. On the exterior, he may seem as if he were another stereotypical krogran hothead. However, the reason behind his decision to join the squad was because he was fed up with the ways the mercenaries exploited the asari and female human dancers in the nightclubs on Omega. Grundan Krul was also open about his interest in xenophillia, and often shared copies of his monthly subscription to Fornax with others in the squad when he was finished with them. The squad's repeated decline of his offer baffled him. However, the young turian sniper named Sidonis once accepted the offer when he first joined the group. He was promptly reminded of the childhood lesson of saying no to strangers. In the months after, the squad grew significantly in size. There was Sensat the former batarian slave trader, a human male named Weaver who shared no personal information with others apart from his hatred of mercenaries, Vortash the krogran demolition expert who preferred to use the bulk of his body to remove obstacles, Melanis a former turian C-Sec agent who specialized in security, and a young asari maiden named Ripper who was as talented in her biotic powers as she was with singing asari folk songs.

In the cargo hold, the squad was split into two groups. One group was designated to snipe oncoming mercenaries from the catwalks, while the second group were expected to clear out the remaining mercenaries from ground level.

"There is an old Earth story I read a few years ago. I forgot the name of it, but it was about two swordsmen who had planned a duel. One of them was said to have arrived three hours late. Whether it had been on purpose or not, the other swordsman lost the fight because he was too enraged to concentrate in the duel," Butler reminisced as he knelt down behind a large shipment container.

Vortash peered from the side of the container and responded, "You saying that we have one more hour to go before we lose our minds and get ourselves killed by mercenaries? Humans and their crazy stories… "

"Nah, just saying you could use a little more patience. It's not like we're going to freeze to death here and if we get hungry there's a lot of food and drinks here."

Vortash let out a loud groan which not only resonated through the squad's transmitters but also throughout the cargo area. He proceeded to walk towards a short shipping container next to Ripper and lifted the lid.

"Stop it!" Ripper scolded while she slapped his hand off the container. "Shut up and focus on the mission!"

While quickly retracting his hand from the lid, Vortash mumbled, "Yes mom," as he gave the asari a piercing glare. Before Ripper could return the favour, she was interrupted by some good news.

"I'm reading heat signatures coming from outside the door," reported Melanis as he made the final adjustments to his assault rifle.

As the squad quickly shuffled to their positions, Garrus set out an order through his transmitter for the two groups, "Get into your places and be ready. Remember only to fire on my signal, and leave Gus Williams to me."

Within moments, the door of the cargo hold opened. Entering was a human male wearing brown grease patterned coveralls who was being escorted by a dozen of fully armored Eclipse mercenaries.

"Hurry up," the human male said as he hastened his pace, "Just to let you know, I have more than one shipment to do today."

"Don't worry. We'll make it worth your time and credits. That is….if our shipment is fully accounted for," responded a salarian who briskly walked through the crowd of mercenaries. The black markings on the iconic yellow and sliver Eclipse armor he wore denoted the salarian's position in the mercenary groups. He was a high ranking Eclipse operative.

The human male couldn't help but glare at the ignorant mercenaries as they were unaware that his role in the agreement was merely to deliver the goods. The arrangements were made between the Eclipse leader, Jona Sederis, and his superiors. As the group approached the series of weapon storage cases, the human hunched over as he walked near them and proceeded to lift their lids. They were all filed to the rim with firearms.

"Here is the cargo you asked for," the man smirked, "top of the line shotguns, SMGs, and heavy pistols. Feel free to check them out."

As the mercenaries crowded around the opened storage cases, the human male proceeded to lift each firearm individually as he boldly announced to the group the model and strengths of each firearm.

"In the box to my right is the M-6 Carnifex heavy pistol. It's great against armor, but at the cost of high-recoil. I personally wouldn't want anything else at my side if there's a krogan charging at me," advertised the human as he held the pistol above his head for everyone to see. As he lowered his arm, an asari Eclipse member childishly grabbed the heavy pistol from the human male's hands and began to admire it while holding the firearm closely to her face.

"Next is the shotgun all the firearm magazines and catalogues have been raving about. It's the mighty M-300 Claymore," the human continued, "It offers superior short range damage compared to other models in the market. From what I've heard, it's strong enough to blow a person's face off, not that I'm trying to give you guys any ideas..."

As the mercenaries chuckled from the comments, the human male continued onto the next box, "Last but not least is the M-9 Tempest SMG. It boasts a firing rate of 925 RPM. That's 225 faster than the M-4 Shuriken. Also, with its high capacity magazine, it'll be great for shaving down those pesky shields and biotic barriers of whoever gets in your way. "

A majority of the Eclipse mercenaries in the group had been actively touching and running their fingers over the grooves and angles of their latest acquisitions. There was a group of mercenaries who seemed to be modeling with the new firearms, while the others stood and watched.

"Hey Ranula! Telrin! Stop gawking at the goods," the salarian operative harshly snapped, "make a quick count of the inventory so we can get the hell out of this freezer!"

While tightly gripping their datapads, a human and asari Eclipse mercenary began to sift their way through the firearms in the boxes as their comrades continued to vocally admire their latest procurements. They were unaware that the human male was closely observing their latest weapons ensuring that the two mercenaries would not miscount his valuable cargo.

As the mercenary group and the human male were firmly occupied, Garrus took the initiative and began to ready his sniper rifle as he searched for his target. Gazing through the scope, Garrus caught sight of the salarian operative's earthen red speckled skin and readied his finger on the trigger. With the flang of his voice slightly muffled by his helmet, his order resonated through the squad's transmitters, "In 3… 2…"

Prompted by the reverberating sound of Garrus' shot from the catwalks, Butler instinctively threw a flashbang grenade towards the mercenaries. Upon impact, the grenade enveloped the group in bright light and incapacitated them with an aggravating high pitched ring. As six loud shots echoed through the cargo hold within seconds, the human male panicked as he fell onto his elbows and knees in attempt to escape the blanket of light. The shock of the flashbang grenade and the rifle shots did not frighten him. Instead, it was the lack of screams from the bodies which simultaneously collapsed around him. Not only were the mercenaries strategically killed, their pursuers had aimed for their throats.

Emerging from the shipment containers which lined the room was the ground team. As the two imposing krogan members of the squad stood forth, Ripper's biotics flared in excitement as her body became surrounded by a thin layer of pale blue translucent smoke. The intensity of Ripper's biotics danced upon her skin as she created a biotic dome to protect Grundan Krul and Vortash as they charged towards the remaining mercenaries.

When the brightness faded, all that was left was the human male who was seen to be kneeling down on the floor. Miscounting the fallen mercenaries from the massacre, he shielded his face with his arm soiled from his desperate escape through the bloodied bodies.

Garrus propelled himself over the railing of the catwalks onto a series of shipping containers, creating loud repercussions as he made his way onto the ground. As he regained his composure, Garrus faced the man and calmly questioned, "Williams, who is your supplier?"

Standing from his crouch, Williams grimaced as he responded, "I presume that you are the infamous turian named Archangel?"

Garrus ignored him as he calmly walked towards Williams while glancing at the weapons which lay on the ground. The room had been silent in anticipation for the encounter, with only the static of Williams' stressful breathing enrapturing the storage hold.

As the sound from Garrus' boots became louder in his approach, Williams furrowed his eyebrows and questioned, "What is it to you? There's nothing to gain. By now, you should know this already. Rid Omega of one source, and another will gladly take its place."

"Tell me the name of your supplier and I will let you go," Garrus firmly demanded as he knelt down to pick up an M-6 Carnifex. As it lay on his three fingered hand, he gauged the weight of the heavy pistol.

With his back facing the enemy, Williams moved his head slightly to the side in attempt to evaluate his potential escape. Without fully turning around, the only things he could see were Garrus' armored bipedal feet slowly moving towards him. In fear, Williams discreetly reached for his SMG which was hidden in the front pocket of his coveralls.

"Stop wasting time, Williams," Garrus started as he removed the empty heat sink ammunition clip from the pistol and dropped it onto the ground. "Spit it out and I'll let you walk out… alive."

"Or what? You think I'm stupid?"

"I'll say it one more time," Garrus proposed as he reinserted a new heat sink letting the click resound in the room, "What do you value more? Your next pay cheque or your life?"

As Williams responded with nothing but a series of quickened breaths, further observation of the slight movements of William's arm persuaded Garrus to stop his advance. With caution, Garrus assumed a defensive position as he held his loaded pistol.

"Don't take me for a fool, Archangel," Williams snarled as he turned his body while pointing the SMG in Garrus' direction.

_He pulled the trigger. _

* * *

**Disclaimer**: All things _Mass Effect_ belong to BioWare & EA.

**A/N**: This is my take on the Garrus and Shepard romance which occurs during _Mass Effect 2_.

Many thanks to my non-fanfiction reading + non-_Mass Effect _fan beta reader, J.V. I'd also like to thank E.M for encouraging me to go on a 'creative break'.

I apologize in advance if there is some messy grammar that I may have missed. Being quadrilingual has its side effects.

Reviews, criticisms, comments, and suggestions are greatly appreciated.

I'm also looking for a beta reader. Essentially someone to double check the grammar, ensure that my ideas are factual within the _Mass Effect_ universe, and to watch over my ideas before they go off into the deep end. If you're up for the challenge, please PM me.


	2. Contemplating the Binary Moon

**As I Wait Beyond the Traverse**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Contemplating the Binary Moon**

_Note: The rating for this chapter is M for non-explicit adult themes, and violence._

The mandibles at the sides of Garrus's mouth flared in contentment as he leaned against the safety of the metallic wall. He slid his body down to a crouch as he carelessly dropped another heat sink to the small piles which littered around his feet. Garrus felt a sense of satisfaction in his last kill. He considered it a perfect headshot when he saw the bullet instantly killed the human male mercenary as the shot pierced him clean between the eyes. Garrus had always been talented with firearms. Throughout his career, Garrus had been a top marksman during his years in the military and as an investigative officer at C-Sec. Not only did he have remarkable precision, he also had consistent headshot accuracy. Being turian also had its benefits as they were gifted with superior eye sight. However, Garrus took his skills a step further when he commissioned a custom targeting Kuwashii visor. The translucent blue visor which he adorned over his left eye granted him additional perks such as the ability to track his targets with up to one hundred times magnification, and a biofeedback monitor which detected heart-rate and breathing pattern fluctuations.

Garrus felt a false sense of security as his fingers stumbled to insert a fresh heat sink into his sniper rifle. Garrus had become more than familiar with the M-92 Mantis sniper rifle in the time he spent defending his location across the bridge. As he had no other weapons with him, he felt betrothed to the Mantis when he first held her in his hands and arms. While Garrus demanded carnage, she grew to rely and trust in him. In return, Garrus became loyal as she began to carnally lust for him. There was comfort as Garrus ran his hands over the familiarity of her slender pale skinned body. He became intimate with the cold arch at her center which led her barrel and the scope which stood overhead. He tantalized her metallic figure as he gently pressed his fingers on her secret revealing divots. Although Garrus was in the safety of the arms of the Mantis, he understood that she would eventually possess his life. In spite of his situation, Garrus longed for another. However, time felt infinite since he last saw her. There was no longer a possibility to apologize for his absence as she had been asleep for two years.

_Through his scope, he watched._

* * *

Somber lighting and Omega's stale air were not enough to keep anyone from being consumed in another round of Skyllian Five. The room glowed in excitement as laughter resounded from four members of Garrus' squad as they surrounded a small table with cards in hand. At a distance, the others listened while they were preoccupied in other interests ranging from reading to firearm maintenance. Those missing from the room were taking turns patrolling the vicinity for potential threats from thugs and other mercenaries. Nobody complained because everyone understood that relaxation was ephemeral. It was rare for the group to be able to feel at ease in a location for longer than a few days. As the squad regularly eliminated criminals on Omega, a strong feeling of hate became fervent amongst the Blue Suns, Eclipse, and Blood Pack mercenary groups. This often resulted in the mercenaries who were eager to avenge their fallen. With the patrols, the squad was able to keep each other safe by eliminating their hunters with the risk of retaliation from the mercenaries, or forewarn others to escape to another safe location.

Grundan Krul was relaxing on the floor in the darkest corner while the Skyllian Five chatter grew louder. As he reclined against the side of a black couch his hands firmly gripped the latest issue of Fornax.

He smirked to himself and shouted, "Hah! There's a turian and human copulation special in this month's Fornax!"

Adjacent to him, Mierin, Monteague, and Garrus exchanged awkward looks as they continued to methodically polish and clean their firearms.

With his hands concentrated on disassembling his sniper rifle, Monteague ignored the interruption and asked, "Hey Sensat, anything interesting in the news?"

"Just the usual," Sensat responded as he lounged nearby on a black leather sofa. "Endless political skirmishes, attempts of fraud, unsolved murders, medical breakthroughs for …"

"Hey, wait a moment. Go back to the one you just skimmed past," Garrus interrupted as he held a soiled polishing cloth, "The one with the picture of the frigate."

"Hmm, let's see," hummed Sensat as the citrus glow of his omnitool highlighted the multiple ridges of his batarian nose and face. "It's from the Citadel NewsNet. Last week there was an event which was held at the Citadel's Presidium to commemorate the second anniversary of the Normandy crash."

"Does the article mention anything about the event?"

"Not much. It was about three hours. Highlights include speeches from Admiral Hackett, and the Hannah Shepard, mother of the deceased Commander Shepard of the Normandy. Only one of the surviving members of the Normandy was in attendance."

"Wonder who might that be…"

"Archangel, you knew members of the Normandy's crew?" Sensat curiously asked.

A large hologram projected from Sensat's omitool allowing Garrus to take a closer look at the article. His eyes glossed over the headline image of the aging Admiral Hackett dressed in his iconic broad-shouldered navy and gold uniform. He spoke behind a gunmetal grey podium which was embellished with a large triangular Systems Alliance symbol at the center. Behind him sat a tearful dark haired woman who Garrus assumed was Hannah Shepard. Like the Admiral, she was dressed in her Alliance uniform. As Garrus continued scanning down the page, he felt his fingers go numb at the sight of the other image. It was a profile of a dark haired male Alliance soldier bending slightly to lay a bouquet of white flowers at the foot of a golden statuesque replica of the Normandy. _Should have known it was you, Alenko_, Garrus thought to himself.

"No," Garrus bluntly lied as he continued polishing his sniper rifle.

"Hah, Shepard was Crazy," Monteague laughed, "Being the first human Spectre and all, I'll give her credit for one thing though. It's nice to see that she wasn't like the other Alliance types. I'm glad that she was willing to work with other races to further her goals, but seriously though, that Reapers shit she stirred is getting old. It's probably some story to keep kids in school and off Red Sand."

Grundan Krul lowered his Fornax magazine and snorted, "She's probably on Red Sand herself! No way can Reapers exist. Another machine race? Only one we know of is the geth, and I've fought the geth a few times. It wasn't pretty."

"Not going to believe a word Shepard or the Citadel council says until I see these Reapers with my own eyes," Mierin added.

"I agree. I could care less about Shepard or the Normandy. For all we know she might not even be dead! No body was found," Sensat said as he nodded in agreement, "It's probably some fabrication created between the Citadel politicians and the Alliance Military."

"She couldn't be that bad," Garrus said while he slightly cringed as he began reassembling his sniper rifle, "It's a big galaxy out there. There might be a possibility that Reapers exist."

After all the fighting Garrus, Shepard, and the Normandy's crew had done to keep the Citadel from being destroyed by a reaper, the council shrugged them off and continued claiming that the geth were at fault. Garrus knew that the Reapers were coming. He saw one at the Citadel, and witnessed the immense destruction they could do. The only question was when they would arrive. The longer it took for the people to realize the threat, the less prepared they would be. If the direct Reaper attack on the Citadel was not enough to convince the council, what would it take for them to speak the truth?

"Never took you as someone who believed in the Reapers, Archangel," Sidonis interrupted as he wearily stepped through the doorway, "Speaking of which, could I speak to you for a moment? In private."

Garrus stood up from his chair in relief. He did not know how much disrespect he could take from the comments his squad mates made towards his former commander.

As Garrus followed Sidonis out the room, he couldn't help but notice his uneasy breathing. Something was wrong.

"Hey, Sidonis you all right?" Garrus questioned.

"Yeah, don't worry about me," Sidonis answered as his eyes focused on the ground, "Combination of stress and the lack of sleep. Lack of appetite too. It's near the anniversary of when my bondmate got killed by the Blue Suns merc."

While Sidonis walked, his matte black alloy armor muted any chance the light could reflect from it. With his gloved hand brushing the elbow of his left arm.

Sidonis cleared his throat and started, "Archangel, I got a tip from an asari researcher while I was on patrol just now. She said that she knows of someone who is going to unleash some sort of virus on Omega. She believes that it's something that targets Batarians and Turians. Mentioned that she's willing to work out a plan with us, but she wants to meet you in private first."

"Sure, I'm fine with that."

"Great, let me forward you the time and location of the meeting place," Sidonis stuttered, "She said to meet tomorrow at midnight in the alley behind the Elcor Café that's located in the Soka district south of here."

"Thanks for the message, Sidonis," Garrus nodded, "If we're going to rid Omega of its evils, we'll need all the help we can get."

_An empty heat sink falls to the floor. _

* * *

The room was silent without the squad. Though the ghosts of its former self lingered, they constantly teased his memory. While Garrus followed no religion, but he could not help but be reminded of the spirits the turian elders of his home planet, Palaven, often called upon. The spirits of the room and his squad spoke to him through the splatters of dried blood on the floor and walls. The table which once provoked smiles and amusement lay on its side as winning card hands and multicolored chips scattered between the debris in room. At the far corner, one of the black couches pinned open a wrinkled copy of a Fornax magazine. The torn pages spread haphazardly across the floor as they a layer of dried dark orange colored blood revealed broken snapshots of an intimate scene. It was of a naked scarlet haired human female lavishing her wet pink tongue over the throat of a dark skinned male turian. While near the entrance of the room lay shards from several bottles of brown glass and empty heat sinks were left astray. A translucent residue which once flowed from the bottles seeped through to the other side of the door. It left behind the foul stench of cheap batarian liquor, the best the squad could afford with their minimal salary.

Garrus's vision blurred as he reached into his supply crate. He knew that he did not have much longer to live, but before he would die he was intent on bringing as many mercenaries as he could with him. Though the throbbing of his headache momentarily subsided, he searched for his bottle of pain killers only to throw an empty bottle back into the crate. His supplies had been dwindling as there were only five medi-gels and enough ammunition to last until Omega's daybreak. Garrus was becoming careless. For his standards, one headshot out of ten kills was not worthy of praise. Being deadlocked across the bridge was a decision made by the foolish. However, Garrus had no one but himself to blame for his situation.

_He slammed his fist against the wall. _

* * *

The scent of blood and burning flesh often lingered in Omega's atmosphere. Though the daily death toll is unknown, the amount of visitors and immigrants docking onto Omega never ceased in number. In a land without law, citizens and visitors would often abide by the one rule of minding one's business. However, if someone were to encounter a problem, they would often solve it through the quickest method of pointing a gun towards their head. It was such a frequent occurrence that people would casually ignore anyone lying on the ground. Though that person may still be breathing, they would not dare to interfere in fear of repercussions done by the killer.

Garrus approached the decaying bridge as he felt an ominous slither run down his back. He quickened his strides while avoiding the rusted filaments which complicated his path. Something did not feel right as he came across the scent of freshly spilt blood and burnt flesh. While he scanned the area with his visor he felt his gut clench. _This can't be happening_, he thought. He was unable to detect a faint life sign on the second level of the squad's temporary home. As one foot silently stepped in front of the other, he could not help but imagine the possible scenarios which may have happened. If the squad was attacked, it was routine for the squad to relay information through their private transmissions. Where was the patrol group? Of all the members in the squad, they would be the first to relay the information on the attack. Perhaps, someone or something attacked leaving them no time to pass the message. What happened to the transmissions?

With the flashlight of his omnitool guiding the path, Garrus readied his sniper rifle as he entered the poorly lit foyer. Garrus braced himself as he walked through the maze of broken furniture. The row of sofas and couches which once posed as an extravagant seating area were now overturned and destroyed by multiple trails of bullet holes. While the shelves were strewn in the area they revealed little of its content.

"No…" Garrus whispered under his breath.

There was a severely burnt krogan body lying against the couch. The fresh odor of burning flesh reeked from the mass of its body. Its face was unrecognizable as it was charred and disfigured beyond recognition while the remnants of the heat from the flame discolored and melded the metallic armor onto krogan's skin. Although Garrus avoided looking directly at the body, he could not help but notice its extended arm. His eyes widened in realization of the shotgun the krogran's hand gripped onto. It was the M-300 Claymore. No one in the squad but Vortash possessed that shotgun.

As Garrus made his way to the stairs, the glimmering trail of blood that pooled down the steps caught his attention. As his flashlight revealed that the blood came from a body of a human male which rested against the wall. Judging from the smear of crimson on the wall, the assailant riddled his back with bullets and threw the body to the side. As Garrus reached the top of the stairs, he caught eye of glowing omni-tool coming from the arm of wounded batarian's body. As with the human, he also seemed to have been shot from behind. Garrus sighed as he watched the batarian peacefully hung his head to his chest as he leaned against the doorway. Did he die while attempting to encrypt the lock on the door? Garrus shook his head and thought, _Monteague? Erash?_ _How did this happen?_

Forcing himself forward, Garrus braced himself in anticipation of the nightmares which may unveil in the foreboding room. A sour and bitter scent of batarian alcohol welcomed Garrus as he reluctantly shined his flashlight into the place he and his squad had currently resided. His light gently reflected off the glossy playing cards and round gambling chips which littered the floor while the once luxurious couches and sofas were left astray on its sides. At a distance, Garrus noticed a figure hunched over in the shadows. The curiosity of his ingrained C-Sec investigative training enticed him, though the realization that it may be another squad member caused unease. As Garrus trudged towards the body he ignored the shards of glass which crackled under his boots only to be stopped by a soft lump under his foot. The red glove revealed its three fingered hand which rested upon a page of empty magazine text. Its maroon eyes blankly stared at Garrus as a pool of orange blood from his krogan body soaked through the erotic pages beneath it. Garrus's hands shook in reaction to the sight of Grundan Krul's inanimate body.

Garrus released a long exhale as he reluctantly returned his eyes to the hunched body. The figure had been seated on a chair while the flashlight exposed viscous red fluid which flowed from head that had lay upon the edge of the small round table. Under the man's chair lay a lone pistol which was within reach of his hands that hung at his sides. When Garrus caught sight of the other body across the table had mirrored the same pose, he had easily deducted that they had been the source of the scattered playing cards and chips. However, it was not until a closer inspection that the shadows disclosed themselves as Weaver and Sensat

Seeing little purpose of remaining in the ill fated room, Garrus return aimlessly into the foyer while asking himself how destruction of this extent may have occurred during his short absence.

Garrus's thoughts raced as he reassessed the area_, It took me twenty minutes to get to the alley behind the café_. _I waited for her for thirty minutes? Forty minutes? An hour? She never showed up. What was I thinking?_

He froze as he heard a stressed wheeze from a distance. Believing in the slight possibility of a survivor, Garrus made a quick scan of the room with the help of his visor only to find a faint sign of life hidden behind the stairs.

"Please," the voice pleaded upon the echoes of Garrus's incoming footsteps, "I don't have the data."

"Butler," Garrus hastened his approach as he saw the human male reclining against the back of the stairway, "Are you injured?"

As Garrus saw his comrade gripping his side in pain, he instinctively knelt to his side and pulled out a medi-gel only to be stopped by a red soaked hand which pressed against his own.

"No," Butler coughed as he revealed a steak of blood at the side of his mouth, "Save it. Don't waste it on a goner like me. You… will need it."

Restraining his emotions as he removed his helmet, Garrus asked, "Butler, what the hell happened?"

"The mercs. They had this planned. It happened too fast," Butler's voice stuttered in agony, "Even with our staggered patrol shifts, they managed storm us. Archangel, we were not match. They sabotaged our transmissions and came in with heavy weapons. M-451 Firestorms, missile launchers, shotguns..."

Unaware that it inaudible to humans, Garrus growled under his breath as he listened.

"They kept on asking for the data. What fucking data? We don't keep any!" tears flowed down Butler's blood stained face as he readjusted his back against the wall. "You… you don't want to know what they did to us. I saw it all. Archangel, they fucking emptied a Firestorm to his face. Have you ever heard a krogran wail? I..I heard him. I heard everyone. The sounds. The images. It.. it won't get out of my head. The others. They might be in the center room garage. I… I saw them run in, but no one… came out."

"It's all because of me, Butler," Garrus whispered, "I shouldn't have left the squad for that tip Sidonis gave me. She never showed up."

"Hey, it's not your fault."

"This wouldn't have happened if I stayed with the squad."

"No one could have anticipated this," Butler strained as he let out a blood-filled cough, "Archangel… I don't have much time. I'm sorry, but could you do me a favor?"

"Anything," Garrus responded.

"Could you contact my wife? Her name is Nalah. Tell her that… I can't come back," Butler pleaded as he placed a small cloth wrapped package in Garrus's hand.

"Butler… Leave it to me. I will," Garrus nodded.

"Thanks," Butler smiled, "For everything…"

A faint source of light seeped through the darkened doorway as Garrus made his way towards the garage. Though slow in pace, Garrus's footsteps resounded in the metallic hallway as remnants from the leaking gasoline and accumulated mold attempted to deter him. The garage and its held vehicles were owned and neglected by Rhi'hesh Shurta, a gang leader who Garrus and the squad had recently eliminated. He had an impressive collection which included four different models of the krogan Tomkah infantry vehicles which he had personally stolen from Tuchanka. While avoiding the rows of wires that lined the flooring, Garrus wandered between the parked utility vehicles as he scanned the area for possible survivors. His heart raced as his visor alerted him of life signs within five meters of his location. As he quickened his pace his flashlight and the heavy sent of blood exposed the location of two silhouettes that were leaning against the wheels of a Tomkah.

"Dammit! Stop bleeding," Ripper cried as she wrapped an arm around her profusely bleeding abdomen.

"Hey, Archangel," Melanis's sluggishly rose his head as he placed his blue stained hand on Ripper's knee in an attempt to comfort her.

"This is… all my fault," Garrus's voice flanged in remorse as he got down on his knees while reaching for his medi-gel, "How did this happen?"

"Archangel," Ripper refused the offer as she seethed in reaction to the stings of her wound, "We… we were patrolling and we heard gunshots coming from this location…"

"We rushed here right away," Melanis waved his hand in refusal as he continued with a heavy breath, "As you can see we were outnumbered, but somehow we managed to finish them off."

"Heh, it didn't go as planned," Ripper forced a smile as she soughed in pain.

"While we were fighting, Mierin went off and rigged this place. They shot at him while he was wiring this damn room," said Melanis as he turned his eyes towards the dark green stained wall at the far end of the garage, "Wish I could have done more for him before the mercs shot at my legs. I… can't even feel them now."

"This can't happening," Garrus shook his head as looked at Melanis's injuries.

"All that's left is to blow this place," Melanis's mandibles flared in ambition as he raised the cylindrical trigger that he gripped in his hand.

"Archangel… before you go," Ripper said closed her eyes as she leaned her head against Melanis's shoulder.

"Hey," Garrus harshly snapped, "I'm not running."

"You have to. I'm not going to let Mierin die in vain," Melanis growled, "The mercs will return any minute. They didn't march their way across the bridge, Archangel. They've been coming through this garage, and we're going to seal it. You're going to die either way if you stay any longer."

"Melanis," Garrus started, "If I'm going to die, I might as well take my time. You of all people should know that turians don't run from battles."

"I know," Melanis chuckled, "But this is no joke, Archangel. Don't throw your life away. You have to survive for the squad."

Tears rolled down Ripper's stained cheeks as she started, "Goodbye… Arch…"

"No," Garrus interrupted, "It's Garrus. Garrus Vakarian."

"Heh, so that's who you are. I would never have guessed that you were the turian who aided the infamous Shepard of the Normandy," said Melanis as he lowered the timbre of his voice, "Well then, Garrus, this is goodbye. On behalf of the squad… we appreciate everything you've done for us. Thank you for giving us the honor to serve you."

Ripper hummed in agreement.

"Likewise," responded Garrus as he stood up, "Everything we've accomplished wouldn't have been done without everyone's help."

The increasing shuffle of footsteps began echoing through the garage as the taunting of their voices became louder.

"Garrus," Melanis smugly replied, "Go. Run. Get out of here! I need to detonate this thing. They got my legs, and the next thing they'll go for is my fringe. Won't do us if the mercs come shooting it off."

"This isn't time for bad turian jokes," Garrus quipped as he put on his dark blue helmet before stepping towards the doorway.

"Heh, I know."

Sense of guilt flooded over Garrus as the door closed behind him. As he started down the stretch hallway, his thoughts raced as his legs steadily picked up his pace. His mind was still flustered by the sight of his squad as he repeatedly blamed himself over their deaths. Garrus's thoughts conflicted over the selfishness of his survival. The false meeting with the asari researcher was the only thing that stood between his life and his execution. _Had I not gone, they would have been alive_, Garrus accused himself as he sidestepped the overturned sofa in the foyer.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he began to run.

The shouting became louder as numerous gunshots followed from the direction of the garage. As Garrus dodged and jumped over the large slabs of rusted metallic debris which spread across the bridge, he instinctively covered his helmeted head when he heard the explosion. Fighting against the urge to look back, Garrus's forced himself to move forwards.

Garrus ran for what he felt like miles. Despite the growing muscle cramps from the strenuous strides he took, his mind convinced him to continue. He was no longer running from danger, he ran in attempts to escape his thoughts. As he made his way through Omega's bazaar, the heavy scent of krogan herbs and spices burned his throat as he darted through the crowds who stared at him. While occasionally bumping into shoppers, Garrus continued unfazed by the curses they called out towards him.

Turning towards an alley, Garrus collapsed against an oversized inventory crate which vibrated to the rhythm of the booming electronic beats from the bar next door. While catching his breath, Garrus caught sight of an asari dancer on the opposite side of the alley as she embraced her moaning turian patron against the wall. While dim lights flickered above it exposed the asari's her tight lackluster outfit as it juxtaposed against the gleam of the turian's black armor.

Garrus turned away from the couple as he gasped in revelation, "Where was Sidonis?"

_An onyx armored woman quickened her pace in the shadows._

* * *

A/N: How much description is too much? I will work out a balance as the story progresses. The last bit of this chapter with Garrus discovering the squad may have gone a bit overboard. Also, if you're wondering where Shepard is, she'll be making her debut in the next chapter.

I'd like to thank J.V for being beta for the first half of this chapter. All the help and guidance you've given me was much appreciated. Best of luck to you and your studies! Also I'd like the two readers who reviewed the previous chapter!

Now that I'm without a beta reader, if you are interested feel free to PM me. I would not mind being beta for your writing in return. The beta-ing could be... mutual (!)


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